


Clint Barton, Avenger

by OddityBoddity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint has self-esteem issues, Complete, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Insecure Clint, Self Confidence Issues, but he's got nice friends, clint and natasha are best buds, clint barton is lonely, clint has a bad ear, clint takes the bus, not cannon compliant, not even any snuggling, smut-free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:13:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddityBoddity/pseuds/OddityBoddity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint doesn't think this kind of thing is funny, but he's been the butt of a joke plenty of times before. Whatever. It's fine. It doesn't bother him. Not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint Barton, Avenger

  
The first time Tony asks him to join the Avengers, he laughs. See, he knew Tony said _something_ , but he was standing on Clint's bad side, and Clint's always had what you'd maybe call an imaginative streak, so he wasn't really sure he heard what he thought he heard. Anyway, Tony's reaction was about right, so whatever he said it must have been a joke. They shake hands and that's that.  
  
  
The thing is, he gets it. Even his brother hardly talks to him. It's fine. He got used to being alone a long time ago. So when Tony asks him again (maybe for the first time?) and he's on Clint's good side this time, Clint _knows_ it's got to be a joke. He laughs and Tony smiles and shrugs like he doesn't see what's so funny, but Clint's been the butt of a joke like this before. After all, he was the kid with the bad ear at the orphanage, and that made him different and different was like having a target painted on you. Sure, Barney was older and bigger, but Barney wasn't always around, and even if he was around, he sometimes didn't care. So Clint knows how this goes. When someone who has everything offers you something you want, it's just to see you reach out and try to take it. And everybody knows Stark is an asshole. So when Stark says, "Want to join the Avengers?" Clint laughs, and doesn't give him the satisfaction. He thinks he ought to feel good about that when he's on his way back to his apartment. Outsmarted the smart guy. Too bad he's too damn tired to feel anything but more tired now.

 

*

  
The Hulk doesn't scare Clint the way the Hulk scares other people. Clint supposes there's something about being an undergrown stub of a kid around the Strong Man that sort of takes the terror out of being really little around the really big. "You should stay," the Hulk says, in a voice like concrete being crushed.

  
"I don't think so, big guy," Clint answers. He knows the Hulk is only asking because Clint is one of only a few people who isn't scared of him. Clint gets it. He knows what it's like to be so alone that it defines you, and to be a little bit desperate about wanting friends. But after a while it stops pinching like a cheap shoe, and you get a callus where it used to hurt. Besides, Clint's got a hundred little cuts from flying glass and metal from when the bots started blowing up. He just wants to go dig out his first aid kit and get a shower and go back to bed. "I'm going to take off. You can come by any time, though," he adds, hoping that won't happen.  
  


*

  
The next time they're all fighting together, Clint has one of those moments, you know, one of those moments when you're suddenly totally _present_ , and everything stands out sharp like the contrast's been turned way up. He ought to be proud to be a part of this, but the truth is, he knows he doesn't belong here. It's everything he can do to keep up with the others. He wonders how long they're going to let him hang out before they get tired of him.  
  


*

  
It's Captain America who asks next, and that actually stings like hell, because Clint had heard stories about Steve Rogers when he was growing up and, honestly, he'd always thought better of him. But they say you should never meet your heroes, so really, Clint's got nobody to blame but himself.

  
"Why don't you come back to the mansion with us?" Steve asks, a huge hand resting like a weight on Clint's shoulder.

 

"Can't. I think I left my coffee maker on," Clint says, bitterly disappointed. He takes off fast; he doesn't want Steve to see the expression on his face because, _Ha ha,_ wouldn't that be funny. But he wonders, as he heads out without saying goodbye, if this is a way of drumming him out, or if it's just a game they're playing. He wonders if it'll stop if he ignores it long enough, or if they'll get tired of it and tell him to get lost.

 

*

  
  
A few weeks later, while they're enjoying the traditional face-stuffing that always occurs after a serious bout, he hears Natasha say in a low, soft voice, "No, leave him alone," to someone. She's sitting on his good side. Maybe she forgot. Across the table, Thor's huge shoulders roll in a sort of red-upholstered shrug. 

"If that is your wish," he answers, but he looks at Clint as if he'd like to ask a question. Clint's glad he doesn't. It's bad enough having Captain America in on the joke. He doesn't need the enthusiastic, guileless alien god guy in on it too.  
  
  
After the meal, Clint pushes back his chair and says good night. The others mumble assorted farewells, except Thor, who booms his and then gives what Clint thinks is something of a disappointed look to Tony. Tony, for his part, is sagging where he sits, and he kind of looks like the only reason he's upright is the armor. He scowls back at Thor, and Clint's fairly sure this is supposed to be a covert communication, but Clint's got good eyes. He sees everything.  
  
  
He's just gotten outside, where the air is thick with exhaust fumes and muggy as a bathroom after a hot shower, when somebody comes up behind him. Clint once let somebody he trusted get behind him and that was how he ended up with broken bones and medical bills he couldn't pay. He doesn't let people get behind him any more. Instead he sidesteps, and turns, and Steve Rogers flushes pink and withdraws his hand and says, "Sorry. Forgot."

"Doesn't matter," Clint says. "What's up?"

"I meant what I said, about joining the Avengers," Steve tells him. He's got such an earnest face, but Clint reminds himself that Steve Rogers was a USO performer, and though that might have been in the distant past to the rest of the world, to the man out of time it wasn't that long ago. 

Anyway, Clint's tired, and he's sick of this game, and the tiny nugget of patience he actually possesses has been rubbed away to nothing now. "Look, lay off," he says wearily.

Steve blinks at him, like maybe he's never heard the words _lay off_ before, though Clint knows he has. Clint folds his arms across his chest.

"It wasn't funny when Stark asked and it wasn't funny when Bruce asked, and now it's just getting old. And," he adds, because if he's honest with himself, yes, there's callus there, but it does still hurt, "frankly, Cap, I'm a little disappointed."

"Disappointed?" 

"This kind of jerking around doesn't really suit your aww-shucks persona."

"Jerking… around?"

Steve's forehead scrunches up.

"It's a joke. I get it. The…" Clint shrugs, "the carnie with the shitty ear. Look, I know I'm not…" he waves sort of vaguely back at the burger joint, wondering why the hell he has to explain this to anyone, especially the people who are doing it. "I'm good and I'm useful. But if you want me to get lost, I can do that. Just say, man. Don't be a dick about it."

  
Steve's eyes widen slowly as Clint talks, and he leans back on his heels and then rocks forward. "You think we're joking?" he asks.

  
And now it's Clint's turn to be startled. It actually hadn't occurred to him to ever take the offer seriously. He's a garden-variety human. An orphan. A carnie. He's a good shot, yeah, probably the best in the world. But he's prickly as hell and he doesn't like people and he's got that bad ear. Nobody wants Clint Barton, unless it's on a super-short term contract, or dressed as a clown for a birthday party which even he make himself do any more.

  
"Jeeze," Steve says. He spreads his hands in the air before him, as if there's an invisible deck of cards there. "Look, Clint, you're the best shot I've ever seen. And I…" Steve hesitates, his eyes suddenly distant, thinking of something in the past. His yesterday, Clint reminds himself. Ancient history to the rest of them. "I've seen some good shots." Steve shakes his head. "You work hard. You'd be an asset to any team. Tony suggested it, and I agree. The others do too. We want you to be an Avenger."

  
Clint is torn for a moment, torn between knowing he should laugh, and wanting so badly to reach out and take the bait, just in case, on the off chance, the offer is actually genuine.

  
"I wouldn't joke about something like that," Steve says quietly, as if he can read Clint's thoughts. "I'd never joke about something like that."

Must have been a lot of salt on the fries, because Clint's mouth seems to be totally dry. He works up the spit to swallow and realizes he's staring at a blackened smear of gum on the sidewalk. He looks back up. Clint was never one for eye contact, so it takes a bit of effort to look Steve in the eye. Steve looks back at him, steady.

  
"For real?" he asks. His voice is almost hidden on the rumbling of traffic and the buses.

"Yes."

He realizes he can see the others, through the glass doors of the burger joint, and that they're all turned around in their seats and watching, even Tony. He's going to be the biggest, dumbest punchline in the longest, stupidest joke in the world. He sighs.

"Yeah okay," he says. 

Steve smiles. It's not a big grin that screams "everybody in the restaurant owes me twenty bucks!" or a grin that's going to be followed by a laugh. It's the kind of smile that comes with a sigh. "Good," he says. "I'm glad. I'll talk to Tony and he'll get things set up, the cards and whatnot. Come by tomorrow around noon. Assuming nothing's blowing up," he adds, smiling a little more broadly now.

  
Clint nods. "Sure. Yeah. Okay," he says. There's something ballooning in his chest. He takes a big breath. "That burger gave me heartburn," he mutters and thumps himself.

Steve grins. He drops a big hand on Clint's shoulder. "Tomorrow. Noon," he repeats.

  
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Clint answers.

Steve retreats back inside and Clint sees Natasha lean back in her chair, lazy, like a well-fed cat. She meets his eyes through the windows, and smiles at him. _About time, Barton_ , she mouths.

  
It kind of settles on him then, an Avenger. A for-real fucking Avenger. He shakes his head at her, points to his bad ear, _Huh?_

  
She makes a tiny cranking motion with one hand, and slowly raises the middle finger of the other. He grins, and knows he's grinning like a loon, but he doesn't care. He waves goodbye and she returns it, and turns back to the partial-demolished burger in front of her. Clint heads up one street, to the bus stop.

"Avenger," he whispers as he walks. "Clint Barton, Avenger." He grins the whole way home.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
